Pride A 7 Deadly Sins Story
by Belladonna1185
Summary: "W-what are you going to do with me?" The better question to ask is: 'What am I not going to do with you'- Another tale in the 7 Deadly Sins Series


**A/N: Here is another story in the 7 Deadly Sins Series. All of my stories can be found, un-censored, on my LJ page or on A03.**

**Hope you like it!**

**~Belladonna**

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**Pride**

I can barely contain my joy as he looks up at me with blatant contempt.

"You'll never get away with this!" he bellows predictably.

Honestly, it is pathetically uninspiring to say something like that in a situation like this. It is not as if I'm some smarmy villain from a novel. I have no large handlebar mustache to twirl around my index finger. There is no runway stagecoach filled with orphans seconds away from taking a perilous dive off a cliff as a result of my machinations. And I am most certainly not cackling with glee.

That would be most undignified.

I am dressed in black, so I suppose I can give the dunderhead lying at my feet some _miniscule_ amount of leeway.

"They'll find me, Snape. Merlin help you when they do!"

This time I can't keep from rolling my eyes.

"Mr. Potter, " I say calmly as I kneel down to grab his face in my hand, " No one will ever find you, unless I wish them to."

"You're-"

"No Potter. I will not be caught. I will not be punished. No, I'm sorry to effectively destroy your hopes, but you are mine to do with as I please."

The look on his face…_now_ he understands.

"W-what are you going to do with me?"

The better question to ask is: 'What am I _not_ going to do with you?'

As cliché as that is, it is also the truth.

"Mr. Potter, you will do as I say. Now…strip."

This time I do allow a small smirk to cross my face. His surprise is delicious.

"Strip?"

"Yes. Now. Do it."

"You filthily Death E-" he begins to spit out, but, of course, I can't allow that.

I send one good smack across his cheek. My blood boils with contentment.

"As I was saying. Strip."

He does. Of course he does. He has no choice. He can see it in my eyes that I will tolerate nothing less than immediate action, perfection. He must comply...there is no other way but the path I have set.

"Now crawl over to me and open my robes, " I order once he sheds the trappings of his clothing.

He takes my breath away.

I am fascinated by the play of his Quidditch-toned muscles rippling just under the skin. I can barely contain my need to touch, to caress, to taste as all that pale perfection crawls towards me.

"Kneel at my feet, " I command like a king. "Open them boy, take me out."

"Take you out?" He asks stupidly. He really does try my patience.

"Yes, boy._"_

That lovely ivory throat swallows reflexively and I can't wait until I can feel the action around me.

He truly is beautiful: petite, just the right dusting of chest hair, gorgeous.

Deft hands expose me, take me in hand…again he knows what will happen next. He's figured out the picture the pieces create.

I purr. "And if you even think of biting me in anyway not sexual, you will find yourself in a grave situation indeed."

He knows that I mean it. He won't try anything. He knows I am not a man to trifle with.

Tentative lips encase me. It's lovely.

I give him more direction, guide him through the process.

Hmmm…not as incompetent as I've always believed him to be. It's refreshing in a way, to see he _can_ actually learn something from me. While I'll never let him give a practical demonstration of that knowledge on anyone by myself, it is still…gratifying all the same.

"Potter," I growl. I'm home and it's beyond words.

I look at him through half-lidded eyes , truly look at him and marvel in wonder at what I see. He…enjoys this.

Oh, what Albus would like of his Golden Boy now! The-Boy-Who-Lived on the floor at my feet!

And it's too perfect. I can't stop myself. And, Merlin, I wish I could keep going because, Potter is moaning as he swallows as he peaks….untouched.

We both come down, regain our equilibrium, and it's still….perfect.

"Mmm….Severus, we have to role-play more often. I love it when you're like that," he sighs as he crawls on to my lap and wraps the arms I so love around me.

I can barely contain my joy as he looks up at me with heat and softness.

All I can think is, I'm the reason, I am the source, he's mine.

They say pride is a sin.

I am already condemned, why not add another to the pile?


End file.
